five thousand birds
by dansunedisco
Summary: Sasuke comes home and it's not a happy ending. Sakura copes.
1. opponents

**i.**

The war was over. The world was saved. Treaties were drafted, new alliances were forged, and Sasuke came home without a fight.

Sakura had imagined (dreamed) for years of how Sasuke's return would pan out: the avenger redeemed, cleansed by the unconditional love of his former teammates-the only family he had left in this world. Of course, fantasies were what they were, after all, and Sakura had stopped dreaming in color a long time ago.

She bound Sasuke's hands behind his back, Naruto covered his eyes with gauze and tape, and they both put a black cloth bag over his head. It was all a courtesy, and Naruto and Sakura exchanged looks to remind one another not to let their guards down. They could go toe-to-toe with Sasuke, if they went all out, but all three of them knew it would take one mistake, just one, and Sasuke would slip through their fingers like grains of sand.

The walk back to Konoha was a long one, and uncomfortably silent. Sakura hardly remembered a time when Naruto had kept quiet for so long. She tightened her grip on the rope that bound her to Sasuke, mostly to remind herself that this was really happening. Stranger yet, he was leading the way back to Konoha, as if he wasn't blinded, as if he hadn't been gone for years, as if he had never left in the first place.

It was everything she had wanted, Sakura thought. Naruto to her right, Sasuke leading the front, and Kakashi-sensei a thousand yards back. She had finally won her prize. In hindsight, the victory hardly seemed worth all the effort, the bloodshed, the years, the tears, and innocence broken a hundred times over.

**ii.**

Sakura hit, and she hit hard.

Murder.

Defection.

Intentions to incite genocide.

The list went on. Each charge that had been brought against Sasuke rang through her head as clearly as they had the day prior during his trial. Sakura and Naruto had been granted an audience by the Godaime Hokage to plead their case in defense of the last Uchiha heir. But Sakura couldn't bring herself to speak up, and Naruto's passionate speech (the subject: forgiveness) fell on deaf ears. No one wanted Sasuke living, breathing, even_thinking_ around the citizens of Konoha-he was a dangerous stranger to them, and Sakura was beginning to think herself insane for ever believing that he could be rehabilitated. His face had been expressionless throughout the trial, his eyes as cold and uncaring as they'd been when he had gazed down at her at Orochimaru's underground lair-even when Tsunade had declared his sentence loudly, and clearly, for what everyone knew was for Naruto's benefit.

She moved on to the next training post, practicing her katas slowly this time, hoping that the training exercise would draw out the tension that had been building inside of her for so long.

The boy Sakura had known at twelve was gone, perhaps forever. The shiny veneer of childhood she so fondly remembered and called upon during times of her highest doubts had been sloughed off by revenge and Sasuke's unquenchable thirst for power. The fact that he was alive and would remain so for as long as the council saw fit was a cold comfort-the coldest of them all. Hard work meant so little when the pay off was deemed meaningless in the end. She had sworn to become stronger; to become strong enough to help Naruto, to become strong enough to bring Sasuke back. But she couldn't heal someone who resolutely denied they needed any help, and that was the bitterest pill she had ever had to swallow.

Thank you, he had said, but for what? She brought him back to his 'home', only to have each and every villager turn their back on him, including her. When he had needed her the most, when her testimony could have made even the slightest bit of change in his sentencing, she'd said nothing. Sakura knew that some things could be forgiven, but she knew no matter how much she begged, cried, or reasoned, Konoha would still find him guilty, and would still lock Sasuke deep in the dungeons underneath the prison. It wasn't fair, but second chances were rarely given out these days, especially to those branded _traitor._

Sakura no longer pulled her punches and her wooden opponent shattered underneath the barrage of her fists.


	2. conflict

**iii.**

It was in the middle of the night (two months after they'd brought Sasuke back), when the realization dawned on Sakura that she would never stop loving Sasuke. Admitting it to herself was hard-so hard that the inner conflict was almost laughable.

The war had torn many lives apart, and Sasuke was so central to it all that it felt like the vilest betrayal to even _think_ she could still carry a brightly burning torch for him. Loving someone who had tried to hurt her-_kill her_-was no easy feat, and she was no closer to forgiving him for that than she was to forgiving herself for allowing her own feelings to meddle in her duty towards Konoha. But despite all her logic, despite the voice in the back of her telling her it was only going to hurt her in the end, she found herself lying awake in the middle of the night, holding Team 7's picture to her chest like she had for hundreds of nights before, and admitted that there was a piece of her that would never stop believing she could help ease his loneliness.

Someone had to believe they could.

And if not her, then who?

Tears filled her eyes as quickly as they always did when it regarded her precious people suffering, and Sakura sobbed quietly into her hands.

**iv.**

"Yes, he's a war criminal... yes, he's a defector. But he came home. He came home, because he knew he had to atone for what he's done. And that might not be enough for the council, that might not be enough for the citizens who have lost so much... but it's not right. He came home knowing this would await him-he came back. You can't keep him locked up forever. It's not right."

The Godaime reflected upon her apprentice's plea, her gaze trained out the window of her office. It was a sloppy case, unrehearsed, and spoken out of passion, not reason. The speech was something Tsunade expected of Naruto, not the pink-haired kunoichi she had mentored for years.

The allegiance Tsunade had to the Uchiha boy were severed the day he'd carved a line through his headband, and she trusted him only as far as Ton-Ton could throw him. But Tsunade was nothing if not a forward-thinking woman, and she saw the intentions of the elders as clearly as ever: the Sharingan was to remain in Konoha, and heads would roll if it did not. At the end of the day, they couldn't care less if the denizens were up in arms because a war criminal walked amongst them. Convincing them that the last Uchiha heir would stay, and stay loyal, was the ultimate battle.

But what more did she owe Uchiha Sasuke? He showed a lack of repentance during questioning, refused to cooperate in full, and was generally a massive thorn in Tsunade's side throughout the entire ordeal. She had a village to rebuild from the ground up and the little boy had wanted to play games. Tsunade understood pride, but she also embraced humility when the time called for it, and she found herself rather impatient with those who did not. She'd permitted him to live out his life, though it was a life now severely limited, and he should have been damn grateful.

It was a complex issue, and Tsunade found that she was much too sober to process it all.

"Shishou," pleaded Sakura.

"Go to him," said Tsunade finally. She locked eyes with her young apprentice. "Go to Uchiha Sasuke and convince me that he is willing and able to make amends. Convince me, Sakura, that he will never betray the Leaf again, and maybe then we can discuss what is fair and what isn't."

Sakura bowed quickly and exited the office, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. A cold chill had run up her spine when Tsunade had ordered her to visit Sasuke and it was still lingering at the nape of her neck. Despite her impassioned speech, the last thing Sakura wanted to do was actually_visit_ him. As far as her nerves were concerned, her job was done the moment she'd handed Sasuke over to the two ANBU squads that had been ready to receive him at the secret Konoha side gates.

Sakura flew down the steps of the Hokage Tower and out into the crowded streets of her village, feeling like more of a coward than she had her entire life.

What had she expected, really? She would say a few lines, Sasuke would be released, everyone would apologize for everything wrong in the world, and the picture would fade out in a dazzling sunset. Of course not. They lived in a world where hundreds of people were slaughtered by a brother under orders, an innocent child was ostracized for reasons out of his own control, and a little pink-haired girl was ignored by all until she finally had the courage to stand up and fight for her place in the world. Nothing wrapped up neatly, _ever_, and Sakura knew her happy ending was still miles down the road.


	3. rain

**v.**

It was raining, hard. The cheerful Spring season had melted away to a damp, muggy Konoha Summer a week ago. Sakura's hair was currently plastered down on her head, rather unattractively if her reflection in the puddle was any indication, and she brushed aside the stray lock of hair that had flopped in her eyes for the twelfth time. The forest foliage barely protected its inhabitants, of which there were currently two, from the heinous weather, and it only took a few minutes from the time the downpour started before Sakura was soaked to the bone. At least it was warm rain, she conceded. She pulled the lapels of her white cloak closer together, knowing full well that the gesture was a useless one.

After making a fool of herself in front of Tsunade, Sakura had begged and pleaded with Izumo, who was more apt to complying with Sakura's lip-pouting than Kotetsu, to add her name to the mission roster as often as possible in a bid to avoid the unavoidable. Three back-to-back mission later, and she was stuck in a typhoon-like downpour. It was something like poetic justice.

She waved to Hinata. "Think this will let up anytime soon?"

Hinata's eyes flickered upwards—her eyelids and eyelashes twitching, just barely. Sakura was abundantly sure that the Hyuuga clan didn't also possess a bloodline limit that forecast the weather, but one couldn't be too sure these days. "I don't think so," said Hinata. Her voice was barely loud enough for Sakura to hear over the hiss of the rain. "Shall we set up here until the weather is more favorable?"

Sakura shook her head, grimacing as another rivulet of water made its way down her neck. "Let's just head back."

The sooner they made it through the gates, the sooner they both got paid, and the sooner she could visit Sasuke in the prison catacombs and right the balance of the universe. The trepidation she'd so keenly felt when Tsunade had asked her—no, _commanded_ her—to visit Sasuke had all but vanished in the past weeks. What was she to fear? He was doped up to his ears, barely able to piss or eat without assistance. Sakura knew this because Ino had confided this information to Sakura not soon after she'd been tasked with mucking through his head.

At first, Sakura thought it was one of Ino's ploys to dig a perfectly manicured nail under her skin, but Ino had broken down into sloppy tears not soon after the confession, and Sakura was content to wipe away Ino's snot and mascara, partially because Ino looked absolutely hideous when she cried, which was a delight, but mostly because she absolutely understood Ino's pain.

Thinking back, Sakura realized she never did ask Ino what she found in Sasuke's head that had rattled her so much.

In any case, Sakura's own feelings were quite clear to her, and that was enough. She didn't need second-hand stories, nor did she particularly want to mull over them and their meanings, as she surely would have, if Ino had divulged anything more.

Sakura had spent many years wondering where she stood with Sasuke, even after he left her on a cold bench (the bastard), and quietly missing him, despite his apparent need to strangle her every time they met thereafter.

The turn of events were acceptable, she'd decided. Sakura was sure it was a sign that her mental state was actually rather in disrepair, but she figured she'd let it unravel further as long as her head could remain as clear as it had become recently.

She had cried when she realized she still loved him, half in horror and half in relief. Ultimately she wasn't strong enough, or insane enough, depending on who you asked, to completely disregard her emotions. This, many people agreed, was one of her most identifying traits.

But still, she had to acknowledge that she didn't love Sasuke the way she had before. She loved him the way she loved Team 7. And she loved Team 7 the way someone looked fondly back on their childhood, sentiment abounding. And no matter how hard she tried, Sasuke would always be attached to her memories of happy days and growing up. He had to know that. He was a genius, after all, and, disregarding his aptitude for sociopathic tendencies, was actually well aware of human emotions and the way they manifested.

But maybe Sakura was giving him more credit than he was due.

He tried to sever their familial bond, not just once, but many times, only to find that both Sakura and Naruto were still patiently waiting for him to come back and tie his strings to theirs again. It must have frustrated him to no end.

Sakura sighed. The war was over, Sasuke had come quietly, Naruto was as determined as ever, Kakashi's tardiness was still atrocious, and she was still trying to pick up the pieces of a situation beyond her control. Nothing had changed, and yet.

She leapt into the trees, Hinata following closely behind.


End file.
